


Daughter of the Sun, of the Sand

by abyss1826



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Original Character(s), Patch 2.0: A Realm Reborn, Slow Burn, Ul'dah (Final Fantasy XIV), bitter WoL, conflicted hero, homegirl gonna get less and less chill with hydaelyn as time goes on lets just put it that way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abyss1826/pseuds/abyss1826
Summary: When the hostilities of the desert become unbearable in the wake of the Calamity, B'sahla Pahsh is forced to flee her home. Taking up arms as an adventurer and traveling to Ul'dah is her only option; no matter how she wishes she could have done more.
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Comments: 21
Kudos: 13





	1. The Jewel of the Desert

Adventuring had never been a plan, but now there was nothing else she could do.Trading in the Forgotten Springs hadn't gotten her much but the fur raising glares of the U tribe. B'sahla managed to scrape together enough to pay for a ride to Ul'dah anyway. The man seemed kind enough. She wondered if he had gone easy. Felt her need to get away.

The Sagolii wasn't home anymore. B'sahla wondered if Ul'dah ever would be.

She tilted her head back in the shade of the canvas balloons and closed her eyes.

“Y’all right lass?" The merchant asked when he noticed she had woken from her strange dream. "You were moanin’ somethin’ fierce for a while there. Feelin’ the effects of the aether, I reckon. You’ll get used to it, though, don’t worry.” B'sahla frowned, unsure of that explanation. The aether couldn't be that different, could it? They were still in Thanalan after all, and her tribe had always moved between oasis' and wells. New locations had never bothered her like this before. The sound of additional chocobo in the sand broke her from her thoughts.

“You there-halt!”

“What’s this all about,” the carriage driver demanded as the Brass Blades surrounded them.

“Inspection! Men, search the carriage!” the captain ordered.

“I’m just an honest peddler, friend." The blond hyur stated. "So, er...don’t be too disappointed if you don’t find nothin’ eh?”

“Mind your tongue, old man, lest I cut it out.” B’sahla bristled, watching the man not-so-subtly reach for his own pocket. “Sir, look! Somnus!”

“Honest peddler, was it?” The captain jeered. “Since when do honest peddlers deal in prohibited herbs? You’re in a lot of trouble, old man. You’ll rot in a dungeon til the end of your days… unless you can afford the fine.” The merchant saw B’sahla reaching for her hora and shook his head.

“Heh, business as usual…” he muttered to her. A glint in the sky caught her teal eyes and she reached for the man, pulling him to the side so the arrow pierced only wood.

“Amalj’aa! Amalj’aa!" Someone yelled, running toward them, "To arms! To Arms!”

“Seven hells…” the captain cursed. “Consider this a warning! Now go-all of you!”

The carriage lurched back into motion.

“Phew,” the older hyur sighed, leaning back on the bench. “That kind of excitement ain’t good for the heart. You be careful ‘round them Brass Blades, lass. Bastards’ll have the shirt off your back if they fancy it. Like common bandits, they are, only less honest." B'sahla looked behind them as the fight got further away. The Brass Blades seemed to be winning, but it wasn't that many Amalj'aa to begin with. Nothing like what- "Thank the gods for sendin’ some beastmen to the rescue, eh?!” The Miqo'te shrugged. “Hey, seein’ as we’ve still got a long ride ahead, you mind keepin’ me company till we arrive? Them young’uns don’t much care for conversation, see.” She glanced at the twin Elezen. They must have been picked up from another settlement while she was asleep. 

“Brent’s the name, an’ peddlin’s me trade. An’ judgin’ by your garments, I’ll wager you’re one of them new adventurers," he said, eyeing her stolen hora and worn armor. B’sahla nodded. “I knew it! Goin’ wherever the wind blows, seekin’ fortune an’ glory-now  _ that’s _ what I call livin’! So long as you can avoid dyin’, I mean. Ain’t no secret that adventurin’s a risky business-these days especially. What was it that first attracted you to it?”

B’sahla took a moment to answer. In truth? Thanalan was a harsh place to live-harsher since the calamity pushed the Sagolii’s resources to even further scarcity. Oasis’ her tribe had counted on had dried up, taking their usual game and brush with them. It was harder to trade for goods when the U controlled the closest settlement, harder to hunt when the remaining game was so dangerous, harder to survive when the Amalj’aa…

She needed the gil.

“Better fortune, eh? Then I reckon you’ll fit right in where we’re goin’! Once you’ve learned to handle yourself in a fight, you’ll want to pay a visit to whichever craftin’ or gatherin’ guild tickles your fancy. An’ there’re plenty to choose from, too. Whether it be weavin’, alchemy, goldsmithin’ or minin’ that interests you, Ul’dah’s got a place where you can learn your trade. Adventurin’ ain’t just about killin’ things, after all. A peaceful pastime may well help you make your fortune! Just remember though: there’re more important things than fortune an’ glory. Such as  _ breathin’ _ . Ain’t no profit in bein’ dead, an’ that’s a fact. By the by, is this your first trip to Ul’dah?”

“Yes.” Brent looked surprised.

“It is!? Well then, let this journeyed itinerant tell you the ins an’ outs of your destination. Ul’dah’s ruled by the sultana in name, but as most folk know, the Syndicate holds all the real power. Them and their Monetarist cronies would happily get rid of Her Grace altogether, but that won’t happen while she still commands the loyalty of the Royalists-an’ the Royalists are nothing’ if not loyal. These factions have long fought over power, throwin’ the weight of their wealth against each other, an’ they show no signs of stoppin’. ‘Course them Amalj’aa couldn’t care less about Ul’dahn politics. They have their own interests, an’ they ain’t afraid to use force to serve ‘em. They say war is a gift to peddlers-need breedin’ profit- an’ though it shames me to say it, I’m inclined to agree…” Brent looked over his shoulder. “Ah, at long last. Behold Ul’dah, jewel of Thanalan, where folk turn sand into gold!" Brent grinned when he saw her bright teal eyes widen at the scale of it all. The cart stopped near one of the great gates.

“An’ here’s where we part ways, lass. I’m off to the markets to deliver me wares, then it's on to the highroad for me.” He reached into his pockets, taking out a handful of silver feathers. “Here, I want you to have this-by way of thanks for putin’ up with me prattle. You never did tell me your name, though. Hey, but here’s an idea… Become the sort of storied personage I can brag about havin’ met an’ I’ll consider us square.”

The girl chuckled. "B'sahla Pahsh," she said.

"Right then, miss Pahsh, I'll look forward't hearin' all about you one a these days."

“Oi, ‘venturer! Over here!” B’sahla turned, seeing a dark clothed Hyur man watching her from the shade of one of many stone pillars. “Aye, I mean you. Fresh off the carriage, by any chance? Eh? How can I tell? Heh!" B'sahla hadn't had the chance to ask. "Name’s Wymond an’ my business is knowin’ every bugger else’s. Now then, what if I was to offer you some invaluable advice by way of welcome to our fair city? Free of charge even-just this once, like.” 

The man continued his unsolicited advice, telling the Miqo'te girl to be wary of the dark alleys and to visit a woman named Momodi at the adventurers guild. Nothing B’sahla wasn’t already planning to do, but she didn’t say it. She had a feeling the sharper parts of her tongue would get her in trouble if she were to speak with them. She walked briskly to the Quicksand. The Lalafel at the bar counter smiled brightly.

“Why, hello there! If you’re lookin’ to join the Adventurer’s Guild, you’ve come to the right place." B'sahla nodded. "Name’s Momodi, and I own this fine establishment, if it pleases you. I also manage the Adventurer’s Guild here in Ul’dah. So you might say that lookin’ after green adventurers like yourself is my vocation. And lucky for you that is. Without someone like me to steer you right, you’d soon find yourself out in the middle of nowhere, caught up in business you don’t understand. Like our conflict with the Amalj’aa for example. They’ve been plugin’ the sultanate for nigh on, oooh... _ forever  _ now. Then there’s the Garlean Empire. None can say for sure what they’re plottin’ these days, only that they  _ are _ . Aye, the people drink and make merry...but underneath it all, there’s worry."

"I  _ am _ from Thanalan, miss Momodi," B'sahla stated, "I'm very  _ personally _ aware of our land's issues."

"Oh! Well, all the better then! None better than our very own to dedicate themselves to leavin Ul'dah in a better state than you found her. I’d be happy to let you join the guild.”

“Seems like a goal enough,” B’sahla nodded.

“Alright then! A promise is a promise, now!” Momodi cheered. “I’m countin’ on your help to put the past behind us. We need people workin and spendin and bickerin like the old days. And a happy and prosperous Ul’dah means more business for the Quicksand, too! Anyroad, lets make this official.” She picked up her pen. “What’s your name, lass?”

“B’sahla Pahsh.”

“Could you spell that for me?” She looked up when she didn’t get a response and saw the young woman shifting awkwardly, fluffy tail flicking behind her in agitation.

“My tribe letter is B…” she offered. Momodi smiled kindly. 

“A good start,” the Lalafel said encouragingly. “I’m not sure anyone from your tribe has come through my doors before. There’s quite a few other Miqo'te in Ul’dah, however! I think I can spell it out well enough for now; if you ever want to change it later I’ll handle the papers!” B’sahla repeated her name for the proprietress, and she wrote it phonetically, with the added h’s most non-Miqo'te dropped for the difficult sound.

“Thank you.”

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed of, lass! Plenty a’ folk come through in your shoes!” She closed the book with a thunk. “All right Miss Pahsh! On behalf of the Adventurers’ Guild, I officially-” Momodi was interrupted by a scuffle in the center of the establishment.

“Please, sir, be merciful! Twelve as my witness, I swear to you, I’ll bring you your money!”

“In the East it is said that even a merciful god might be driven to vengeance if thrice blasphemed. Be grateful you were given a fourth chance to offend. You two, attend to this scum."

"No, please,mercy!”

“Well Ain’t that a sorry sight,” Momodi sighed. “Nor An uncommon one, if I'm honest. Don’t worry, though-if you work hard, I doubt you’ll end up like him." B'sahla thought of the little more than three gil she had left and wasn't so sure. "Just the same, if you ever need a bit of advice about one thing or another, pay me a visit. Just don’t go botherin me everytime you stub your bloody toe, all right? ‘Course I  _ do _ enjoy hearin’ a lady muse on the many manhoods of her acquaintance from time to time… Anyroad, welcome to Ul’dah, B’sahla!”

B'sahla made her way to the Pugilists guild, with Momodi's directions. The old guild master seemed excited for a new recruit.

"Now let me just find ye somethin fittin an initiate, eh?" Hamon winked before walking over to a cabinet in the wall. B'sahla followed him.

"I've got a pair already, sir." He looked over, inspecting them with a frown.

"These won't do. Don't fit your hands right. How'd ye gettem?" He asked, going back to digging through the shelves. "Can't imagine a little thing like you taken down one a those lizardmen by herself, unarmed." B'sahla winced, putting the Amalj'aa-made hora back on her belt.

"Was trained to hunt with a bow, haven't the gil to reach the Archers Guild, though. Thought I'd need to come with weapons of my own."

"Nae, they make for great trophies, though," the old man laughed. "An' you'll pack a heavy swing with an archers arms, too. Our Guild's happy to have ye." He finally pulled out a few different sizes of bone hora. "Now let's get yer fit."

She spent her daylight running across Thanalan, completing Hamon’s various training exercises and picking up random errands from cityfolk in the vicinity. It was evening when she returned from testing a new technique on the sparring dummies the man had set up in the street.

“Ye aught’a take a break, lass,” Hamon laughed when she returned. “There’s no need to rush yer trainin’. Why don’t ya take a day or two, take some jobs, an’ let your work sink in, eh? ‘Sperience’s the best teacher, an’ all.”

“Oh. Alright,” she said, fixing the black headband that held her rust colored hair back behind her fluffy ears. “Have a good night then.”

“You too, lass.”

“Finally stopped for a rest, Miss Pahsh?” Momodi asked with a chuckle.

“Scrounged enough gil by running errands to get a meal, I hope,” the Miqo'te replied as she sat down at the side counter. Her tone was joking, but the Lalafel could plainly see she was no stranger to scarcity, thin as she was.

“I can fix you somethin’ for six, if it pleases ya!” The Sun Seeker stuck a clawed hand into one of her belt-pouches and came up with the change. Momodi smiled and went into the back kitchen herself, fixing a large bowl of mutton stew and a heaping plate of mashed popotoes for the woman. She did not miss how B’sahla’s slitted eyes grew large when she set the dishes in front of her. “Ale, miss?” She just nodded, still bewildered. Momodi gave her a bright smile before going back to her papers; reports of civilian requests handled by guild members tended to come heavily around supper. B’sahla’s name was on several, as the Lalafel had expected. When she got to reports from the guilds her members were also a part of, her eyebrows began to rise. Hamon had not  _ one _ , but  _ several _ reports of completed guild challenges: the kind he only gave to students when he believed they were ready to move onto more difficult training. Momodi knew the pugilist was a driven character, but the man would never push his students beyond their capacities. She looked back at the red-headed Miqo'te. If all adventurers had her energy and drive, things in Thanalan would be fixed within the year, Syndicate willing. Momodi hopped back off her stool and returned to the kitchen, snagging one of the apple-filled fish pastries from the low pastry rack.

B’sahla looked surprised when she added it to her nearly empty plate of popotoes.

“On the house, lass!” Momodi declared before B’sahla could attempt to refuse. When she returned to her stool she caught a certain ash-haired bard glancing at the new adventurer with interest from his usual table. Catching the man’s attention Momodi sternly put her hands on her hips and shook her head. The man grinned, his shoulders shaking slightly as he chuckled and took another swig of ale. The last thing she needed was him distracting her promising new member with his mischief, or, gods forbid, breaking her heart.

The younger woman took leave of the Quicksand after thanking Momodi for the meal. The evening was still young, and Momodi assumed she had yet more to do. 

"What fetching new visage graces your establishment today?" 

Momodi turned her eyes from the door to the familiar Hyur before her with a tired expression.

"A green adventurer, and naught else," she replied, taking the gil he passed her and refilling his drink. "She arrived just this mornin'." The man raised his eyebrows.

"Rising quickly through the Pugilists guild?" he asked. At the Lalafel's bewildered look he added- "She's on the third set of hora."

"So you've gone an' memorized those, have you?" Momodi asked, crossing her arms. Thancred laughed.

"It is quite useful to know where an adventurer is in their training by sight alone! Especially if one appears to be exceptionally gifted." He winked, and Momodi let out a huff.

"Don't you go an' distract her, you hear?"

"I will not make promises I cannot keep."

In a dark alley off of Pearl Lane a sharp clawed figure found purchase in the old mason walls of the city. The sky was bright with stars. B'sahla thought of children born under only one moon. She had wondered, for each, what the stories would sound like to them. Wasted thoughts, those had been. They never grew old enough to hear stories.

B'sahla stopped at a flat, sloped roof. Two taller buildings flush against where she stood created a sheltered corner, and the deep balcony above would hide her from windows and create shade. It would do well for the night, and hopefully for many more; until she felt she could afford lodging at the inn.

Until then, she curled up in her stone corner, head pillowed on her arms, and slept.


	2. The First Crystal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Off on an assignment already?” Thancred asked, taking the seat B’sahla had just vacated and watching her walk out the door.
> 
> “Aught’ta wake up earlier if you’re so set on catching this one.” Momodi laughed at Thancred's faux-miffed expression. The man chuckled. 
> 
> “Not today’s goal, I’m afraid. I’m going out to take readings.”
> 
> “Anythin’ we should be worryin’ about?” The Archon winced slightly.
> 
> “Not quite… not at the moment, at least.”
> 
> “I’ll tell my folks to keep an extra eye out for themselves.”

B’sahla rolled into a warm patch of sun as dawn broke over the city of Ul’dah. It was cold at night, and would be blistering by noon, but in the morning? Nothing was cozier than a bright pool of light. As she basked she could hear the traders opening their stalls in the market not far away. She would need to get down from her perch soon if she wanted to avoid being seen. 

The woman stretched out onto her back with a yawn before sitting up and facing east. Hands clasped, she prayed to Azeyma. She prayed to the Warden for knowledge of her way forward, and for protection for herself and for her clan in the lifestream; and for Momodi, Hamon, and Chuchuto, who had welcomed her in a place where she knew no one. She also prayed for the merchant who enabled her to get to Ul’dah in the first place; that his journey be safe from ill-doing ‘guards’ and other misfortunes. Satisfied that her affairs were in order, B’sahla thanked the goddess further for the new day, and stood up to go about her business.

Swiftly she made her way down to Pearl Lane, window sills and decorative stonework making easy purchase for nimble feet and fingers. As B'sahla walked to the Quicksand she wondered what she would do. The mining guild would come naturally, Mythril ore and bomb ash had once been the backbone of the B tribes trade when she was a girl; she knew how to find them. If she learned with the goldsmiths she could make something of herself, being able to gather her own metals and stones.

If Momodi hadn't any work planned out for her herself, that was.

"Aye, Miss Pahsh, up to observe the sunrise?" The proprietress asked by way of greeting.

"Every mornin’, if I can," B'sahla replied, taking a seat at the counter.

"I can fix you a breakfast for six," the woman offered.

B'sahla fished the change from her coin purse.

"Got an assignment I think you'd be good for," Momodi said as she pushed a large cheesy omelette over to her. “A bloke by the name a’ Papashan needs an adventurer at the Dispatch Yard. Should I have him expect you?" B'sahla nodded.

"I'll get there as soon as I'm done eating." Momodi beamed.

"Thought you'd say that! The Yard’s over in Central Thanalan. Just head out the door across the hall and you’ll see the Gate of Nald staring right back at you. Pass through it and head east. You’ll come upon it ‘fore long."

“Off on an assignment already?” Thancred asked, taking the seat B’sahla had just vacated and watching her walk out the door.

“Aught’ta wake up earlier if you’re so set on catching  _ this  _ one.” Momodi laughed at Thancred's faux-miffed expression. The man chuckled. 

“Not today’s goal, I’m afraid. I’m going out to take readings.”

“Anythin’ we should be worryin’ about?” The Archon winced slightly.

“Not quite… not at the moment, at least.”

“I’ll tell my folks to keep an extra eye out for themselves.”

“Are you Papashan?” B’sahla asked the elderly Lalafell standing on the station’s platform. The man looked her up and down.

“Well, you certainly look the part of an adventurer, my friend. Papashan I am, might you be the good soul Momodi advised me to expect, hm?” B’sahla nodded. 

“She said you needed help with something?”

“Indeed! I do believe I have some work suited to one of your ability. It just so happens a number of sentries have been sent to guard the area. A dispatch to the Dispatch Yard, as it were. They have long been away from the shade and featherbeds of the city. The hot days and cold nights can play hells on the mind and body out here. It isn’t much, but go out and give them these twilight pretzels, would you?”

“A’ course.” She took the bag of pretzels and made her way to each of the sentires before returning to the man.

“Tell me, how fare our Sultansworn sentries? Did they have anything to report?” he asked.

“No? They don’ like being out here, is all.”

“I...oh dear. Take this for your troubles, then. And stay a moment-there is more I would ask of you.” He handed her a healing potion. “B’sahla, I have just this moment-No! No, the time for concealment is past! The truth is, even before I had you deliver those pretzels, I was privy to some most unsettling news! Which is the  _ real _ reason I sent you to meet those Sultansworn.” The woman raised an eyebrow. “A Young noblewoman from a  _ very _ prestigious family has run away from home, and I have been ordered to see her safe return. The Sultansworn you met earlier are assisting with the search. Alas, it seems they have found no trace of her. I apologise for not being frank with you from the start, but we must proceed with caution-should word of her disappearance spread, I fear others with less honorable motives may join the hunt. And should we allow her to come to harm, not even a hundred beheadings would be punishment enough… That cannot happen, B’sahla. It  _ must _ not! I need you to help me find her.” B’sahla nodded. “Praise the Twelve, I knew I could count on you! I have instructed the others to expand the search, But Thanalan is Vast and there are only so many of us. The young noblewoman’s name is Lady Lilira. I want you to go south and look for her in the vicinity of the Sultantree. Goodluck!”

B'sahla had never seen a tree so large in the thirty springs she had lived. If Lady Lilira were indeed there, it would take some time to search all the nooks and crannies of its roots. She wondered why the Sultansworn didn't send a small group over there themselves, as it would be a much faster search, and they would be less likely than herself to miss the girl if she changed locations. As B'sahla circled the large trunk she spotted a pink clad Lalafel knelt at its base.

“O Sultantree, hallowed spirit of my line, forgive my weakness. My failings have cost us dear,” she overheard her say, before the girl stood abruptly and turned around. “Show yourself,” she demanded, though the Miqo’te was just behind her. B’sahla heard another set of boots in the sand, and turned to look behind her as well.

“As you command, O Lilira,” an ashen-haired male Hyur replied, walking up to the girl. “Forgive my selfish desire to assure your welfare.”

“I don’t recall requesting an escort! Simply pretend we never met and continue on your way,” the girl demanded.

“We both know I can do no such thing. It isn’t safe for you here alone. It isn’t safe for  _ anyone _ -not with this aetheric disturbance… It’s as though the dead are watching us…” B’sahla frowned behind him, as he continued- “And I’d prefer not to join them, if it’s all the same to you.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the comment. He turned to look at her. “Ah, you must be the one that Papashan mentioned. Congratulations for being able to find our elusive young charge. You’ll have to forgive Her Impetuousness. What she lacks in Discipline, she makes up for in stubbornness.”

“Much like all young ones,” B’sahla replied with a wry smile. The man laughed.

“You should return with us. The stationmaster will be eager to thank Lady Lilira’s protector in person.” The beating of wings caught their attention as what B’sahla could only liken to a flying, violet colored peist came into view from around the Sultantree. “Alas, it seems the stationmaster will have to wait,” the man sighed, as though the monster was just some pest. “Dear Lilira, for my sake, please stay out of harms way.” The Lalafel turned and sprinted away to take shelter among the tangle of roots. The man looked to B’sahla as she wrapped her fingers into her hora. “As for you, dear friend-for Lilira’s sake-please stay  _ in _ harm’s way!” 

Short as B'sahla was, doing that wasn't very easy when their opponent was airborne. Hora were not exactly ranged weapons. Frustrated, the Miqo'te woman took a hunting knife from her boot and grabbed the creatures foot form behind, tugging it down and carving a great swath of flesh out of its wing. With the creature within better reach, the man quickly stabbed into its throat. It was an efficient death. 

B'sahla was griped with a bought of nausea as it's aether dispersed. The man nodded to her, a job well done, and turned to search for their noble charge. Before she could move to join him B’sahla caught sight of something shining where the beast fell. A blue crystal. She picked it up, intending to call his attention to it, but it began to glow. As it enveloped her in light her surroundings began to melt away into a blue void. A strange white design burst from her feet as the crystal disappeared from her hand and reappeared in one of the further circles, beaming light into the sky as it did so. B’sahla looked up to see what looked like meteors falling from the circling void above her.

_ “Hear… Feel… Think…” _

When Thancred retrieved ‘Lilira’ from where she had been hiding, he had not expected to find their new adventurer passed out in the dirt. “That’s odd. She didn’t sustain any considerable injuries… She must be particularly sensitive to the aetheric fluctuations here.” Putting on his goggles for a brief moment he took another scan of the area. “They  _ should  _ be returning to normal.” He heard a small grunt as he returned to contraption to its holster. “Ah, coming around now?” He checked the sky again.

“Would you mind telling me what that was?” Lady Lilira asked as the adventurer got to her feet.

“If I only knew. A denizen of the void, at any rate.”

“The voidsent? Here? But how?”

“The question is not “how” but “who”-we’re not dealing with bookless bandits.” He looked over at their newly awakened companion. “Don’t suppose the answer came to you in a dream? No sooner did you fell the beast than you fell asleep. Too much aether, no doubt.” The woman, Momodi had never given him her name, frowned; not seeming to believe him.

“There was a crystal, actually.”

“Interesting… I hadn’t considered the Crystal. But of course… This changes everything.” Both women looked at him oddly. “Hm? Oh, just thinking aloud. At any rate, we haven’t a moment to spare. I must return and report this at once. I leave Lady Lilira in your capable hands!”

“How  _ dare _ you pass me about like a swaddled babe! I shall return and tell them  _ myself _ !” With that the Lalafel stormed away.

“As you wish, Your Impetuousness.” His tease earned him another laugh from the Miqo’te “I suspect we shall meet again before long. Until then, do try and stay awake!”

B'sahla walked behind Lady Lilira while she made her way back to Papashan and watched from a distance as the young woman marched straight up to a surprised Sultansworn and declared herself perfectly safe. The man spied her in the near distance, and knew who to thank for that fact. Papashan himself could not have been more relieved.

“Thank the gods you’ve returned! You had us all so worried!” The stationmaster declared when they returned to him. “You  _ do _ realize what would happen if a person of your noble stature were to be injured-or worse? Why, Her Grace the sultana would be  _ beside herself  _ with grief-and so would her subjects! I daresay they’d be weeping in the streets!”

“But I have already given you cause to weep, Papashan… you and the people of Ul’dah…” the girl replied sadly, much to the upset of the Sultansworn around her.

“Please, Your-” he seemed to cut himself off, “You’re not to say such things! We will find it, I swear to you! It is not my place to make demands, m-my lady, but I beg you,  _ please  _ stay out of harm’s way.”

“I apologize for causing you undue worry, Papashan. I shall refrain from traveling unescorted in the future.” She curtsied before she and the rest of the Sultansworn took their leave of the Dispatch Yard.

“I cannot thank you enough, B’sahla! I understand you fought bravely to protect Lady Lilira from voidsent fiends. For your galland service, you deserve all the riches in the royal vaults. Alas,a small token of my gratitude is the best I can offer.”

“I wasn’t alone, actually, there was a man with us, shortly.”

“Hm?”

“He said something about the aether being… disturbed.”

“Ah! I see you met Thancred. He’s a scholar who spends his days investigating such things. Rather too fond of the sound of his own voice for my liking, but perfectly harmless. As for you, B’sahla- you’re just the sort of adventurer we need around here. I pray you show the same kindness to the people of Thanalan as you did us today.”

B’sahla bid him farewell, but had scarcely left the platform before she was flagged down by someone.

“You’re an adventurer, yes? If you’re not otherwise occupied, I’ve a favor to ask.”

“Of course.”

The man went on to explain that he had ordered a pumpkin, and would ask her to pick it up and deliver it to the Coffer and Coffin. He gave her his proof of purchase, and sent her on her way. The farmer who handed off the produce pointed her in the direction of the establishment.

“Drink fer ye, lassie?” The man at the counter asked as she shuffled through the doors. “Ye won’t get better ale or spirits for your coin than at me place.” B’sahla shook her head and set the heavy gourd in front of him with a grunt. “What’s that? Wee Cicidoa asked ye to bring this here to me? Ha! Heh, so even that foul-mouthed drunk knows the meanin’ o’ remorse. Reckon this is fer the time I carried his drink-sodden arse back home. But hells, and honest-to-gods pumpkin from the Royal Plantations! I can’t wait to see what the cooks’ll do with her. The lads here scoff down beastly amounts o’ meat, an’ it’s startin’ to tell on their health. It’ll be good to get more vegetables in their bellies-assumin’ I can get the stubborn bastards to try somethin’ new. Thanks for the help lassie!” When she stood for a moment, unsure where to go next, he continued speaking.

“Ye know, lassie, if yer just gonna stand around, I can give you somethin’ to do. Thanks to me unbelievably low prices, we’ve got no shortage of customers here. But by the same token, I can’t afford to hire much help. We’re chronically understaffed. What’s more, there’s those lazy-arsed types what refuse to come an’ order at the counter. It’d be great help if you could attend to these customers for me. Mark their orders on these here slips, then bring them here. Oh, and don’t forget about ol’ Adalfuns outside.” B’sahla took the slips of paper warily and made her way to a table.

“Thal’s balls, I’m spent! Grilled dodo, and a tankard of ale to wash it down! Gah, here I am again, spendin what meager coin I’ve got at the Coffin…” the man complained as she stood there. “It ain’t me fault, I tell you. Ye’d do the same if yer wife served up shite every bleedin’ day!”

“Maybe if you didn’t spend your coin here she’d have the money to make better food,” B’sahla replied.

“Scuze me?”

“Grilled dodo and a tankard of ale?”

“You can’t backtalk a payin customer-”

“I don’t work here.” She left him sputtering as she went to the next table.

“The strongest brandewine you’ve got. I need help to forget…” She nodded.  _ Grilled dodo, an ale, and a brandewine. _

“Gods I’m starving!” the next man declared as she approached. “Bring me ale, grilled dodo, and smoked shrew loaf! And make it quick! Business is good-too good, even. I’ve nary got the time to take a piss, let alone eat. The mere thought of the Coffin’s cooking makes my mouth water!”

“Grilled dodo, ale, and a shrew loaf?” she asked to confirm.

“Yes!”

_ Two grilled dodos, two ales, a shrew loaf, and a brandewine. _ She thought to herself.

She left the building to find the man outside.

“Roger’s new errand girl, are you?” She scowled, but he didn’t notice. “Well then, I’ll keep it simple for your sake: a tankard of your finest ale, chilled with an ice shard.”

_ Two grilled dodos, three ales one with ice, a shrew loaf, and a brandewine. _

“Heh heh… There’s nothing like a tall drink to help one forget about the trifling things in life-like work,” he continued, but she had already walked away.

“That man wants ale and a grilled dodo,” she reported, pointing back to the ungrateful husband, “that table needs a brandewine, a grilled dodo, and a shrew loaf,” she continued, pointing again, “and the man outside wants an ale with an ice shard in it.”

“Thought I gave ye slips, fer orders.”

“Not things I can use.”

“What’d’ye mean ‘not things you can use’?” he scoffed.

“You need me to repeat the orders?”

“No, no, its fine. Ye did what I asked. Got some information could turn ye a profit, in return. Word is, Black Brush Station’s sorely undermanned. The Stone Torches there can’t get a moment’s peace. It don’t help none that the antling’s been multiplyin’ like nobody’s business. For every critter Warin an’ his crew put down, two more o’ the buggers spawn in its place. Mayhap ye can make yerself useful at the station, don’t doubt Warin would appreciate the help. Bring the man their mandibles as proof, an’ he’s likely to have more work for ye after.” B’sahla nodded.

“Thanks for the tip.”

“He’s a Hyur with black hair, you won’t miss ‘im.”

It didn’t take long for her to get the job done, with so many antlings in sight from both the tavern and the station alone. Soon she was walking up the steps to the only Hyur that seemed in enough armor to be in charge.

“Are you Warin?” she asked. He looked down at her, arms crossed.

“What of it?”

She slung roughly ten mandibles from where she’d been carrying them on her back and dropped them in a heap at his feat.

“Roger said you’d been having a problem.”

“Thal’s balls… alright. You come lookin’ for work then?” B’sahla nodded. “Alright, well. Luckily for you we've been having several…’problems’, as you’ve put them….”

So she spent some time doing pest control, getting rid of coblyns and spriggans that were troubling the tracks, until she heard that a man named Wystan at the Coffer and Coffin was looking for adventurers. Figuring that Warin had nothing else for her to do, she made her way back there. But she was just too late.

Wystan was as ambitious as he was made out to be, and for good reasons. He wanted to found a mineral company and hire refugees to pay them fairly, and, having had a similarly lacking upbringing herself, B’sahla couldn’t help but be proud for him. When the men who returned to tell Wystan that the prospectors had found the vein turned out to be Brass Blades, however, she became apprehensive.

“You should join me, my friend! Come and bear witness to history in the making!”

B’sahla smiled, and joined him, but not for the reason he thought. The moment they got to the ruins her instincts rang, unfortunately, true. The Blades circled the two of them mockingly.

“What did ye think was gonna happen? That ye’d strike it rich and get cozy with the Order, while the masters of Ul’dah looked on?  _ No one _ crosses the Syndicate!”

B’sahla took stock as the Brass Blades prepared to kill them. Wystan didn’t seem like a fighter, so she’d keep her hunting knife for herself as a little surprise for the bastards. Her odds were poor, but her peistskin armor was light and made for movement, while theirs was heavy.

**_“O mournful voice of creation! Grant ye this humble stone a soul, that it may wake to life,”_ ** someone said, though B’sahla wasn’t sure how she heard it.

“Who’s spouting that gibberish?!” One of the Blades yelled. The ground shook, and boulders began to rise and fuse into a great bipedal mass. “This ain’t part of the plan! Bloody hells, does Lord Lolorito mean to kill us too?!” The Blades fled as the Golem roared, and B’sahla shoved Wystan behind a chunk of fallen column.

One on one. Those odds were a bit nicer.

She was too small and agile for the Golem to hit, its attacks too easy to predict. Its stance kept wide enough for her to roll beneath it every time it raised its great arms in an attempt to crush her in its hands. It being stone, alone, was a terrible disadvantage when its opponent was skilled at climbing.

Wystan watched in shock as B’sahla sprung herself up its back and, gripping around what would be its neck with her legs, pounded its skull into little flying shards. She flipped backwards, springboarding up off its back as it fell, completely unharmed.

**_“That the golem could be vanquished,”_ ** she heard… or felt? Again from above her.  **_“That woman is no ordinary adventurer.”_ ** When she looked to where the voice had come from, there was no one there. As she stood there, frowning at the ruins, her ears flicked around detecting footsteps. When they seemed to be running at  _ them _ , in particular, she drew her knife, thinking that one of the Brass Blades had returned to finish them off.

“Damn, seems I’ve missed all the fun.” She cut her throwing motion short, hearing that it was only the man Papashan had identified as Thancred earlier that morning. He took a step back, hands raised slightly. “I see you didn’t need my help this time,” he added, watching her return the knife to its sheath in her boot.

“I see you’d’ve been a bit late, if I did,” she laughed, before there was a sudden pain behind her eyes.

Thancred gave a shout of alarm as the adventurer doubled over, clutching her head. Assuming this was the same sort of episode as earlier that day, he moved to catch her. He had assumed correctly, not that it made it less troubling, but it felt better to know he had saved her an abrupt meeting with the stone this time. He would have to make a point to stand closer to her, if they were going to keep meeting like this, Thancred thought as he lay her down gently.

“Whats wrong with her?” asked the man who had been, until now, cowering behind a rock. “It didn’t seem like she got hurt, by Thal’s blessings.”

“Are you injured?”

“No… the adventurer...she took care of it herself,” he admitted, seeming ashamed.

“I will take you and the men that are still here back, in a moment, no one seems horribly wounded.”

Wystan nodded, he and the prospectors quickly making their way to the footpath up out of the ravine.

The adventurer roused just as he ended a call with Minfilia.

“Well, you’re awake!” The woman seemed to frown at him studyingly. When she didn’t say anything, Thancred continued. “My colleagues went to great lengths to provide me with means to detect aetheric disturbances, but every time I find one, you seem to be in the middle of it. I’m starting to wonder if it might not be simpler just to follow you around.” He stood up from where he was crouching beside her and offered her his hand. She took it and he pulled her up with almost too much force, expecting her to be heavier. She was a good fulm shorter than him, as well; now that they stood close enough that he could tell. “Sadly, I have business elsewhere. Tread carefully, my friend. The carefully laid trap you dismantled was clearly sanctioned by Lord Lolorito. I heard the Brass Blades mention him as they fled. Believe me when I tell you that he is not a man to be trifled with. The sultana’s enemies grow bolder by the day, and I suspect they have the support of outside forces. I will be accompanying our would-be prospectors back to safety.” He turned, before quickly remembering something and facing her again. “I forget my manors!” he exclaimed. “I’ve nearly gone twice without introducing myself.” B’sahla laughed, because she already knew who Thancred was, but he didn’t know that, and she wasn’t going to tell him. He thought it was a beautiful sound. “I am Thancred, a humble scholar surveying the flow of aether in Thanalan.”

“B’sahla Pahsh,” she offered, holding out her hand to shake. Instead, he bowed and kissed the back of it. Her surprise was evident, and the way her blush deepened the tan of her skin was captivating, even beneath the dust and grime.

“It is an honor and a privilege to make your acquaintance. I hope when we next meet it is under more auspicious circumstances. Farewell!”

She watched the flirtatious and troubling man as he walked away, wondering what the hells auspicious was supposed to mean. Better? She hoped it meant better.

“Twelve bless you, my friend. You risked your life to save ours,” Wystan declared when she saw him again at the Coffer & Coffin. “Gods…. I was a fool to trust those men.” B’sahla agreed, but it would have been rude to say it, so she remained silent. “Lolorito  _ owns _ the godsdamned Brass Blades. I should’ve questioned their motives from the start. Even so, I could hardly predict that the wealthiest man in Ul’dah would want me  _ dead _ for the heinous crime of wanting to change the law! I’m just a merchant for gods’ sakes!”

“The law is what  _ made _ him the wealthiest man in Ul’dah,” B’sahla hissed. “Those with resources aren’t want to give them up, Wystan. Being ‘just a merchant’ only means he gets rid of you with less of a fuss.” He stared at the floor.

“If I stay in Ul’dah any longer, I’m as good as dead,” he stated. “No one I know will be safe unless I disappear.”

“I’d think so,” she agreed.

“And you….” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you not concerned about your own involvement in all this? If Lolorito learns of you, you’ll be next. I’ll speak with the others and make sure your part in this stays secret. Beyond that, I don’t know what to suggest… Maybe you could seek the council of Mistress Momodi. She’s helped countless adventurers in her time. Maybe she’ll know what to do.”

“I appreciate your worry, but don’t go an’ fear for me if Lolorito does find out. I’ve enough gil now to get a wagon to Gridania, if I need to, and I’ve no one left he can threaten if I stayed.” Wystan nodded sadly.

“I wish you well my friend. Go quickly; his spies may be watching.”

They parted ways, with her taking a few minutes after him so it didn’t seem as though they were leaving the place together. When she left the building she walked around to the back, where no one could see her without her noticing them, and took out her hunting log. Inside the cover was a sheet of all the Aethyrites, and how to calculate the cost of the distance you were going when traveling to one. Her father had been killed before he was able to pass on his ability to read, but the whole tribe knew numbers well enough for her to manage now. She checked her map, and her coinpurse. Getting to Ul'dah proper, and quickly without being seen, would be necessary. She’d have enough to pay the fare, enough to get a proper lunch, and -she portioned out a savings into a different pouch- enough to flee to Gridania with, if it came to it. With that figured out she recited her return spell, and was whisked off into the aether.

“Don’t you worry B’sahla, no one seems to know you were at the ruins,” Momodi told her, which… if B’sahla was honest, didn’t make sense with the number of Brass Blades that had been there. “Wystan on the other hand, is now a pariah-” which was a word that didn’t make sense to her “-about as welcome ‘round here as a rabid wolf, poor bugger. Suffice to say, the boy risked the wrath of the wrong man.” Momodi sighed. “Lord Lolorito: chairman of the Eat Aldenard Trading Company, generous contributor to the order of Nald’thal, and a member of the Syndicate. Didn’t get where he is by leavin’ loose ends, that one. Which is why he ain’t above killin’ his own men.”

B’sahla frowned. She wasn’t as convinced as everyone else seemed to be that Lolorito had anything to do with the golem. There had been something indescribably  _ wrong _ with whatever had given it life, the same feeling as the voidsent from that morning, but no one else seemed to have understood what had been said. If  _ that _ feeling had been caused by whatever Thancred was chasing…. She would have to bring it up with him, whenever they ran into each other next.

“Hells,” Momodi continued, “even if those Blades knew what was comin’, it’s not like they could refuse to do their benefactors biddin’.” The older woman sighed. “Don’t let this color your view of Ul’dah, B’sahla…. It’s true that there are some here who ain’t afraid to crack a few skulls if it gets them what they want. But most of us are decent folk just tryn’ to make ends meet. You know, a lot of people would call you a damn fool for risking your life to save a marked man… But I believe you did a good thing B’sahla! And for that you have my respect. Oh, but I suspect you’re tired now, an’ it’s nearly passed lunch! How ‘bout I fix you somethin’ nice an’ big? My treat!”

Before the Miqo’te could protest that she had enough gil to pay, the woman had hopped off her stool and run off into the kitchen; and so B’sahla took her usual place at the counter, and waited.

She thought about Thancred. He was charming, and he certainly knew it, that vision was proof enough of that, but it was also confusing. One moment it seemed she was seeing five years ago, with him looking at Dalamud, and the next he had seen a disturbance at the Sultantree and was leaving to consult Papashan, which must have led to their meeting just earlier that day. Not even to mention the confusing nature of the fact that she was seeing things like this to begin with. It seemed jumbled. If the moment when he was thinking about the harvests being poor was five years ago, and the disturbance was just this morning, then when in time did he hear about the Amal’ja raiding caravans and mention their primal? When had he been kneeling at the statue? Why the Hells was she seeing such things anyway?

She thought of the way he had kissed her hand and blushed again. The flirt. He reminded her…. 

He reminded her of Fhey, when they had been young, always trying to impress her because she was skilled with a bow and even better with children, and because they were the same age. Not that he was ever afraid of the older girls, she had just always been his favorite, even when they played as children. He had bowed and kissed her hand in just the same way when he won the title of Nuhn; when he had asked her to be his first wife.

For all the times she had played coy in their youth and teased him that his becoming a Nuhn was an  _ if, _ not a  _ when _ , she had always known in her heart she would say yes to him.


	3. The Blade of the Rose

"Do you know of anyone else that needs help today?" B'sahla asked when she finished her late lunch.

"What? Lookin for more work already? Crossin one o' the biggest names in the syndicate not enough of a day for you?" Momodi asked, but she was already shuffling through her papers.

"Might do some good to be seen elsewhere, today. And the sun en't set yet, after all."

"That may be true. Well, a fella named Dadanen needs a hand. Man's a merchant. You should find him in Horizon, that's in Western Thanalan, mind you." The Lalafel pulled out her map. "Scorpion Crossing is here," she pointed, "if you go north across this bridge and follow the path you should reach it without incident."

"Alright then," B'sahla nodded. "Thank you."

"You best be back for supper, now," Momodi warned as she pushed in her stool, "I won't have my adventurers skipping meals for want of some simple errands!" B'sahla laughed.

"I'll be back, I promise."

Her errands in Horizon were no more eventful than the ones at black brush station. She dispatched a few coblyns and did pest control on some midge swarms. The latter was, unfortunately, at the behest of the Brass blades; but B'sahla got paid. She got paid, and enlisted for further help.

Lost Hope seemed as cheerful as it's name suggested; tucked away from the sight of Black brush Station as it was, B'sahla had not noticed it before. She looked around. It wasn't unlike the camps her tribe would set up as they cycled through the seasonal oases and wells that once dotted the Sagolii; but the people were worn and unwanted.

"Just passing through, or will you be staying a while?" The Brass blade sitting near the cauldron asked her.

"I'm looking for Leofric."

"Then you've found him." B'sahla nodded, and took the letter from the traders belt that had once belonged to her father. It had several pouches, each enchanted to hold a bags worth of goods. It had done well for him when he was alive, and though she had little in it, it would do well for her too.

"Fufulupa sent you all this way for a late letter?" The man sighed. "That boy is still far too earnest. Despite my demotion he continues to call me captain. I suspect he has no idea what it means to be transferred to Lost Hope, either."

"That you're protecting vulnerable people?" Leofric laughed.

"The Brass Blades don't give a Qirins arse about this settlement, Ma'am. No one in Ul'dah does. All here have been forsaken: the refugees, their protectors… and you will be too if you're seen associating with us. Thank you for the letter, but for your own good, leave.

A stubborn part of B'sahla insisted that she stay, but she didn't have anything with her to help them. She would have to find where the game had moved on to, go hunting, come back later. But still; as she looked back at the former captain, that stubborn part won.

"I became an adventurer because my home is gone," she told him. "I'm just as much a refugee here in Ul'dah as the rest of these folk, whether others see it that way or not. Now I'm making you an offer: what do these people need help with?" It sounded almost like a threat, and Leofric was no fool. He sighed heavily.

"A band of outlaws has taken up residence at the Quiveron Manse on the ridge to the south. Their leader has claimed himself heir to the late Eolande Quiveron, the syndicate member who died in the calamity. The baron and his cronies are naught more than a pack of jackals. They prey on the people of Lost Hope, robbing them of what little they have. I myself cannot act without endangering the refugees, as they know my face and will retaliate against Lost Hope. But you aren't know to the bandits or their allies. If you wish to help us, deal with the baron.

"They will not live to retaliate," she promised.

There were too many for B'sahla to take on at once, realistically, so the Miqo'te took advantage of some shrubs for cover and restrung her mother's old bow. From there she picked off all those who stood around the outskirts of the campsite, before stealthily creeping out with her hunting knife and making sure the job was done. The rest she fought head on, as Hammond had taught.

"So it is done?" Leofric asked when she returned. She nodded. "Good. Ul'dah's more prosperous than ever, some say. That may be true for the syndicate, but none of that wealth has trickled down to the small folk. It's all a mummers farce," he said bitterly. "One day I refused to play my part-and so I was made to leave the stage. Aye, my time has passed. The Brass Blades of the Rose must look to another for guidance."

"The Rose?"

"Yes, the faction that covers Horizon and a few other locations. We're not all the same."

"Well you're clearly meant to be, if you refused to 'play your part'."

Leofric shrugged.

"I have hopes for Fufulupa, he may yet fare better than I, and keep his hopes in tact besides," the man sighed, taking a dagger from his belt. "Give this to him when you return to Horizon, will you?" B'sahla took it with a nod. "Its just ornamental, but it belongs to the Brass Blades of the Rose. I should have passed it on to the boy before I came here…"

"I will get it to him."

"You have my thanks, Ma'am"

When B'sahla returned to Horizon Fufulupa seemed to be waiting anxiously just for her.

"Did captain Leofric get the letter?" B'sahla nodded. " Oh thank you so much. I was so incredibly worried when I didn't hear back from him…." The boy's eyes widened as he watched B'sahla take the ornamental dagger from her belt. " W-why do you have that?! Only a captain of the Brass Blades of the Rose is permitted to possess it!"

"He wishes for you to have it."

"No, no there must be some mistake…"

"He was very clear about who he wanted me to give it to," she replied. The Lalafel stared at I before taking it from her outstretched hand.

"I will respect his wishes and take it into my safekeeping until he returns to reclaim it, then."

B'sahla sighed, but did not insist of the fact that Leofric had intended to make the boy captain. He seemed distraught enough as it was. She looked at the sky, turning orange with the setting sun. It would be dark by the time she returned to the Quicksand, and it would be simpler to just make camp in the nearby cliffs, but Momodi was expecting her back, and B'sahla did not want to worry her.

"Wait, adventurer! You never gave me your name!"

"B'sahla."

Fufulupa nodded dutifully.

"Thank you for your help B'sahla. Have safe travels."

She bid the boy safety as well, and walked out into the evening.

"Now that's an interesting woman you've found yourself with, commander," remarked one of the scholars the Lalafel knew to inhabit nearby Vesper Bay. The boy jumped.

"I'm not-this doesn't mean-" he sputtered. The ash haired man leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. "He didn't make me captain, he probably just doesn't want anything happening to it while he's stationed at Lost Hope!"

"Is that so?" Thancred mused as he watched his person of interest round the bend in the road and go out of sight. She struck quite an enchanting figure in the glow of the setting sun. She'd been rather captivating the first few times he'd seen her as well, especially in that armor. The harness and subligar were common among Miqo'te hunters to valued agility, though it was certainly a combination that would make any Ishgardian Clergyman faint. B'sahlas armor was of good quality, far better than what most adventurers started off with. Peistkin and Mythril, he believed. The bow, which he did not believe to have seen on her ever before, also seemed well made.

So she was a rising pugilist, capable of archery, who also threw a knife into her battles to spice things up a bit. Yes, Thancred grinned, B'sahla Pahsh was shaping up to be an interesting candidate indeed.


	4. The Criminals of Opportunity

“When you said you were gonna go be seen elsewhere yesterday to throw off the Blades I didn’t think you mean by  _ working _ with the damn bastards,” Momodi said in a slightly hushed voice as B’sahla paid for her breakfast. The younger woman laughed.

“I didn’t expect it to happen either, but someone needed to get rid of the criminals threatening Lost Hope without anyone knowing it was in defense of the camp, so that’s what I ended up doing.”

“Well a Brass Blade by th’ name a’ Fufulupa sent a missive askin’ for your help today.” B’sahla chewed her eggs, raising her eyebrows.

“Did he lose another letter already?” Momodi shrugged. B’sahla sighed. “I’ll see what needs doing. Don’t see much point in them if they can’t actually protect anyone without risking the ones they’re trying to help.” The proprietress pursed her lips.

"As long as you're watchin' yourself, you hear? Who knows, they may 'ave heard about your little adventure and be baitin' you back."

"I don't think it's likely, but I'll keep on my guard."

B’sahla opted to walk to Horizon rather than spend the gil at the aetheryte, but given that she had been up at dawn it was still rather early morning when she arrived. Fufulupa seemed alone, as he was that evening, but B’sahla kept an ear out for any armored footsteps all the same. 

“The Brass Blades of the Rose have need of your assistance once more, B’sahla!” She raised her eyebrows at the young man's abrupt declaration. “Thaumaturges from the Ossuary are presently surveying the footfalls for ancient relics. As this area is rife with wild beasts, the Horizon garrison has been charged with their security. But Captain Baldewyn sent only a handful of Brass Blades! Despite his assurance to the contrary, such a small unit could not possibly be sufficient to protect our patrons. Please offer your assistance to my comrades. Pray travel to the footfalls and speak to Totoruna."

“Alright.” B’sahla nodded, “and where would the footfalls be?”

“Oh! Through that tunnel to the west, just there, “ he pointed. The woman nodded, and went on her way.

The footfalls were wet, mostly, and the rest of it was fallen pillars and statues. A little ways down the stone path that cut through the shallow water was a sizable flat topped boulder that several Blass Blades stood upon. 

“Can I speak to Totoruna?” she asked. One Lalafel in particular crossed their arms. 

“A Bleedin ‘venturer come to help? I ain’t heard nothin from cap’n Baldewyn ‘bout this. He said trusted men only… Anyroad, we’ve got this under control- an’ besides this operation aint got nothin to do with Fufulupa.” B’sahla narrowed her eyes. Totoruna continued. “Boy’s got a stick up his arse the size of a sabotender. It’s no wonder the cap’n told him to stay at Horizon.”

“I see…”

“Well, since you’re here,” the other Lalafel on the rock started, “Mind runnin a message to Crescent Cove for us?”

“Where is it?” she asked, and he pointed southwest. 

“Captain Baldewyn’s plannin some festivities for the thaumaturges, see, and he wants them treated to the finest food and drink. Nothin but the best for our distinguished guests, eh? Tell Raffe that he’s to deliver a bounty of fresh fish to horizon for the feast.”

It wasn’t what she expected to be doing, but she was already there, and had a feeling things weren’t quite right. Fufulupa seemed a decent young man, between himself and the former captain, so if they were making a  _ point _ to keep him out of this? B’sahla scowled. Someone was getting hurt, and if she had anything to say about it, it was going to be the Blades. 

She got to the docks.

“Any a’ you named Raffe?” One of the men nodded. “Captain Baldewyn wants fresh fish sent to Horizon.” Raffe stared at her, his eyes wide.

“F-fresh fish for Captain Baldewyn? Of course- of course! We will do our best Madam!” He looked far too afraid for her liking. “U-unfortunately, we’ve had a poor catch in the recent days on account of the rough seas. More boats should be returning soon, but I cannot promise that the catch will please.” She opened her mouth to say something, which seemed to make him panic. “But don’t worry, Milady, the captain will have his fish! I swear it!”

B’sahla pursed her lips and frowned, turning away. Whoever this captain was, he was clearly some sort of threat to these people, and Raffe thought her one of his. He would be too afraid to tell her anything. As she left the dock, a woman waved at her, so she walked over. 

“Pardon me, madam, I know this is sudden but I have no one else to turn to. Our village has long been a haven for…. Unscrupulous characters-” -B’sahla wasn’t sure what that meant, but it clearly wasn’t good, “-one such band has taken over our tavern. They demand that we serve them Buzzard thighs, thickshell legs, and scaphite slices-none of which are in our larders, though they can be found nearby. Could you procure these ingredients for me, adventurer? I haven't the skill to harvest them from the creatures.”

“Of course,” B’sahla nodded dutifully. These were things that had once frequented oases, she knew exactly how to hunt and butcher them. As she went to begin the hunt she wondered if the ‘unscrupulous characters’ were other blades. Sloshing around the knee-deep water wasn’t pleasant, but she kept her tail dry, which meant she wouldn’t matt, which would have to be good enough. 

“Bless you adventurer, bless you!” the woman cried when she returned with the cuts of meat. “We may yet pass this day without incident! Though I know not what terrors tomorrow may bring. These outlaws do whatever they please, and we have not the strength to stand up to them. The Brass Blades of Horizon and Vesper Bay see no profit in protecting a poor village like ours. Most of them pretend we do not even exist.”-until they need fish, B’sahla thought. “Worst of all are those in league with the bandits…” the woman added softly. 

"What?” she nodded.

“When the bandits were in their cups I overheard them discussing their plans… It seems they’ve come to collect gemstones stolen from copperbell mines, Nashachite, I think I heard one say.” B’sahla raised her eyebrows. That's what she’d had to collect the other day for the merchant. They’d thought the coblyns had feasted on it, but if that had been a diversion…. “They are to meet with their co-conspirators soon, at the footfalls.”

“Wh-what did you say?” a familiar voice exclaimed. Fufulupa. B’sahla had been too absorbed in her thoughts to notice his footsteps. “Illicit exchanged and shadowy dealings! The Brass Blades cannot abide such malfeasance! Forgive my eavesdropping, B’sahla, I came to Crescent Cove merely to thank you in person. I never imagined I’d uncover a criminal conspiracy right outside Horizons gates!”

“Azeyma preserve, hush up!” she hissed, “They can’t find out we know! Do you know what they’ll do to the village if they did?!”

“We must act quickly if we are to apprehend these thieves!” Fufulupa agreed, lowering his voice. “I will notify Captain Baldewyn immediately!”

“Wait!” the woman cried, “You mustn’t! Oh gods…” B’sahla stared after him in shock. 

“Well  _ clearly _ he wasn’t eavesdropping on us for long enough," she growled, “ The captain is part of it, ain’t he?” The woman nodded fearfully. “I’ll go an’ get him,” she stated, before sprinting off. She nearly caught up, but Fufulupa opened his mouth before she could stop him.

“Captain Baldewyn, sir! I’ve discovered something shocking, something horrible! Someone’s been stealing gemstones from the copperbell mines and-” he suddenly took notice of the man the captain was speaking to. “-Wait! Those gauntlets, those boots, -why you’re one of Quiveron’s men! Sir that man is a criminal, a thief and a scoundrel!”

“Just like that captain of yours,” B’sahla stated. Baldewyn laughed.

“I see your adventurer friend is a bit quicker on the uptake than you, eh? His coin’s good, anyway, and that's what counts.”

“What?” You're working with these men?” His light hearted belief that his fellow blades were above being criminals would be nice if it weren’t foolish and currently landing him in danger.

“I told you to stay in Horizon, Fufulupa, it didn’t have to be like this…. They’d get the Nashachite, I’d get my gil, and none’d be the wiser.”

“B-b-but sir! What if your crimes are uncovered? What if Lord Lolorito finds out?”

“You godsdamned fool, don’t you understand? I’m acting under the authority of Lolorito himself!” The boy let out a cry of disbelief. "Why do you think people join the Blades, Fufulupa? To serve and protect?!” Baldewyn let out a cruel laugh. “We aren’t the bloody Flames, here, we do this for the coin!” B’sahla pulled out her mother’s bow as the cloaked man finally got a look at her.

“You! You’re the one who raided the camp! I am sire Baron von Quiveron IV Esquire! You killed my brother and now I’m going to- '' her double nocked arrows sprouted form the man’s head.

“-You’ll join him is what you’ll do,” she growled. Baldewyn drew his lance.   
“Seems it’s everyone’s best interest that you both die,” he snarled. Fufulupa drew his sword as the other two Brass Blades advanced on them. B’sahla strafed, running her thumb over the tips of her next few arrows and twisting their aether, blighting them so they became poisoned. It was a nasty trick she’d seen Amal’jaan archers use when they would raid camps. The arrows hit their marks, the bare patch beneath the arm that was exposed when each blade raised their sword to swipe at Fufulupa. A few well placed kicks immobilized them further, until they were no longer a threat. When she turned to Baldewyn he had his back to her, focussed on parrying his other opponent. Bow away, she took a running leap at the unsuspecting man and, using the momentum of their fall, brought the point of her elbow down on the middle of his back, winding him and smashing his face into the stone. Fufulupa stepped back to breathe as she rolled off of him, hora on her fists. Baldewyn choked and tried to stand, bracing himself on his lance. Suddenly he picked it up and lunged at B’sahla, but she kicked him over. She could hear someone running down the stone path toward them, and turned to discover it was Leofric.

“That's enough Baldewyn! Your partner is dead and your plans are undone. You have no reason left to fight.”

“Stay out of this Leofric! I don’t take orders form you!” the man snapped, getting once more to his feet. “I may have spared your life before, but if you interfere, I will not show you mercy!”

“And what mercy will he show you I wonder? You who have done so much in another man’s name?”

“What are you blathering on about?”

“Every fisherman in Crescent Cover knew about your meeting, you arrogant fool. Quiveron’s men couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Imagine Lord Lolorito’s surprise when he learned that a rank-and-file Brass Blade was using his name to advance a personal agenda…”

He knows? Seven hells! But I’m a captain, he wouldn’t-”

“I was a captain too, remember? And we both know what happened to me.” Leofric turned to Fufulupa. “Well fought, boy. You’ve done the Brass Blades of the Rose proud.”

“Captain Leofric!” The boy stammered, “Captain Baldewyn, he… he said, that Lord Lolorito-”

“Lolorito wouldn’t waste his time on a small scale smuggling operation. This is all Baldewyn’s doing. What else did he say? That all out brethren are no better, and that each and every one cares for nought but coin? Ha! Mere excuses to justify his own schemes. Aye, we’ve got no shortage of greedy sods, some who’s probably sell their own mothers into slavery if the price was right. But there are men like you, Fufulupa-men good and true whom the smallfolk respect. That’s why I gave you the dagger. The Brass Blades of the Rose need a leader with honor, and you’re the most honorable man I know.”

The boy sniffled, tears streaming down his face.

“Captain….”

Leofric sighed and shook his head.

“Let us escort Baldewyn back to Horizon, shall we?” 

B’sahla saw them off, but did not join them. Instead, she went back to Crescent Cove to inform the woman that the deal had been stopped, and told Raffe that they would no longer be needing the order of fish. She told him that she expected Captain Baldewyn would not be bothering them for anything for a very long time. When she returned to Horizon Fufulupa was bursting with news. Baldewyn had been arrested and stripped of rank, and he would be the acting captain until a new one was designated. It was clear that he intended to take the position seriously despite himself considering it temporary, and B’sahla was glad for him. She mentioned that the woman from Crescent Cove felt the Brass Blades didn’t care to protect them, and that he may wish to speak with them to figure out how they could better serve them. Fufulupa beamed.

“Of course! I shall return there this instant!. But he paused before he rushed off, turning to her once more. “And thank you, B’sahla, for your service to the Sultanate. You are a true hero.” She nodded politely, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about what he had said. Yes, she had helped people, but that wasn’t heroic as much as it was just. Decency. Perhaps it was more than most would be willing to do, but that wasn’t particularly  _ special _ with the cutthroat manner in which Ul'dahns lived, and she certainly wasn’t doing it in support of the Sultanate. She may be native to Thanalan, but its government had never put any influence on her life. The warring tribes of the Sagolii may as well have been separate entities, their Nuhns their own Sultans, in a territory that wider Ul’dah paid no mind, even when the Amalj'aa threatened them all. She circled the ring on her right hand, lost in thought. The delicate band was of mythril, and the stone set flush into it was malachite. Fhey, ever the romantic, had crafted it for her himself when he became Nuhn. No stone could ever match the deep teal of her eyes, but green had always been a striking color on her, so he had said.

She checked the sun. It was not yet noon, but she would return to the city anyway. Her obligations in Horizon were over with, for now. She had a mind to join the miners guild.

And she  _ did _ join the miners guild. She just  _ also _ ended up doing a string of unrelated chores that wound her up at the Silver Bazaar.

“Now, since you’re here an’ all, could you do me a favor?” Kikipu asked.

“Sure.”

“Well, we’ve had some loiterers about recently. Surely you’ve seen the hammers to the east there, or at least heard them. Well, a few of their workers have decided to drop in on us for a little rest and relaxation. But they’re no workers. They’re nothing but hired muscle sent to threaten the people of the Bazaar and harass our shops. It’s not the first time. But I daresay a formidable lookin’ lass such as yourself just might be able to scare them off with some strongly worded doubts. What say you?”

“I say you shouldn’t be seeing them around again,” B’sahla replied in a low voice, curling her fingers into her hora. She didn’t need to get violent, exactly, but making sure they knew she could wouldn’t hurt. Eventually she tracked each of the four men down and pestered them into leaving, but each of them said the same thing: that this wouldn't be over.

"Are they gone then? All of them?" Kikipu asked when B'sahla returned. She nodded. "Well that's a relief! Serves them right for trying to scare honest folk from their homes so their own masters can buy them. The hammers were built to pound the ground here into solid foundation. The plan is to turn these tracts into Manor's and manses for Thanalan's wealthy."

"What?!" B'sahla exclaimed. "Ul'dah has people living in the streets and overflowing camps of refugees, and they want to build mansions for those who already have homes?!" Kikipu smiled sadly.

"Tis the way of it, I'm afraid. And the same fate awaits the Silver Bazaar. Since the value of the land is set to rise, small wonder some opportunist is trying to drive us all out so he can have it all for himself. The Silver Bazaar may not be what she used to be. Aye, more people leave now than come, and aye, more shops close than open. But it's my home, and I don't mean to be chased off by some bloody gillionare craven who sends common thugs to do his dirty work." B'sahla nodded.

"Well, if you need me to chase anyone else away, or worse, send word to Momodi at the Quicksand, I'll hear it from her."

"Momodi? You're with the guild after all," Kikipu laughed. "Ah, she and I are old friends. I will certainly contact her for your help, though I hope we won't need to…."

"I will pray for that as well. Warden keep you."

"Thank you, Thal keep you as well."

And so B'sahla parted from the Silver Bazaar, not knowing just how quickly she would need to return.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment!


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